


Them changes

by Niullum



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Authors note in chapter 2, Batfamily Feels, Batkids Age Reversal, Brotherly Love, Damian Wayne is Nightwing, Damian and Bruce have a complicated relationship, Damian is the oldest, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick is the youngest, Gen, Guilt, Insecurity, character death (Tim Drake is dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niullum/pseuds/Niullum
Summary: When the family presents him with the newest Robin, Damian decides that Richard Grayson will not be his problem. He will not get attached. Except… Damian ends up changing his mind.AU! Reverse Age!
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806313
Comments: 11
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thank you to [graysonsflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graysonsflight/pseuds/graysonsflight) and [Squintyfist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErzasCake/pseuds/Squintyfist) for beta-ing! ❤️

When Jon finally returns to the living room, he realizes something has gone wrong. His best friend looks as if they had just declared another intergalactic war on the news.

“Damian?” Jon asks moments later. “Did something happen?”

Damian doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on his phone.

“Nothing of importance,” Damian replies, his mind partially absent, still thinking about what Pennyworth told him on the phone. He burrows his eyebrows, deep in thought. _What exactly could have happened in order for Pennyworth to make a call?_ He clicks his tongue, wanting to call Pennyworth back and inquire more.

The detective side of him, the one that has been dormant for _years_ , is begging to do it. He only needs to press a few numbers. Damian knows the number by heart now.

He snatches his phone and puts it back into his pocket.

“Are you sure?” says Jon, in that typical _I am worried about you, but I don’t want to pressure you_ tone. A voice that’s used whenever Damian’s family pops up. Strangely, over the years that tone has been used less often.

“That look doesn’t inspire any trust,” Jon adds a few seconds later, his face scrunched up in confusion. Alfred chirps too, headbutting his sweater in support. A motion that his cat does whenever he isn’t petted enough.

Damian resumes petting Alfred dutifully. The matter of family has always been a complicated topic for him. As Jon’s younger brother Kon says, Bats are complicated. And despite how much time has passed since he last wore the mantle, Damian knows that deep down, he’s still a Bat too.

“Um, hello? Earth to Damian?” Jon waves a hand at him, but Pennyworth’s words are still ringing into his ear.

_Family emergency._

His head is hurting with all the could-be implications. He locks eyes with his friend and speaks the words he never thought he would say.

“I need to make a visit.”

* * *

Even though months have passed since the last time Damian has set a foot inside the manor, it feels as if time hasn’t touched it at all. He can’t believe that after months of living away, he’s back.

He walks towards the gate, even with every step he takes his mind is telling him that it is a mistake. The exterior of the facade looks the same, and Damian can tell it was recently re-painted.

There’s even the same deer bush Damian was so fond as a kid. He stops nearby the entrance and waits for the courage to come back. It doesn’t. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the door to open.

“Damian?” he hears a familiar voice. The face of Todd, Bruce’s third child, pops up. But it isn’t Todd what surprises him. It’s the little child that trails behind Todd.

And just like that, everything clicks into place.

“A kid,” Damian says flatly, ignoring every desire to snap. It takes a lot for the rest of the words to leave his mouth.

“I came all the way here… for a kid?”

Jason looks at him, sheepishly.

* * *

The first thing that comes to his mind the second he meets the newest child, is that ... the kid is loud. Louder than Drake and Todd, combined. A _circus boy_ said, Todd. The kid apparently watched how his parents fell to their deaths.

An accident said the news… but if there’s something Damian knows well, it is that there are no “accidents” in Gotham.

A very traumatic event that doesn’t match the kid’s personality. Damian is no psychologist, but he can bet that the overly cheerful personality is not normal at _all_. It takes five minutes for the kid to get on his nerves. Because this kid is too bright and energetic. Too _fake_ ; smiling while doing whatever acrobatics that can catch their attention.

According to Todd, this is the fifth vase he has destroyed because of those stunts.

Even grandmother’s precious chandelier hadn’t been left unscathed. This child has done enough property damage that somewhere in heaven Grandma Martha must be rolling over her grave; the boy has destroyed one-third of this manor’s antiques in the six weeks he’s been living here.

Damian can’t remember if, during all the years in which he lived in the manor, he did something like this. Then again, those were different times. He scratches the back of his head, deep in thought. This is probably Bruce’s what?.... The fourth or fifth child?

He has honestly lost count.

Damian sighs, massaging his temple for the headache that will surely come. If he had known that the so-called _“family emergency”_ Alfred had urged him had been nothing other than _a kid_ , Damian wouldn’t have bothered to come at all.

And there’s a reason for that. It directly relates to why he doesn’t live here. Why he tries to stay away from Gotham. He doesn’t have a great relationship with his father anymore.

Suddenly, he feels the discomfort, since… well, he has a complicated relationship with his father. It wasn’t always like that, at least not the first couple of years, after his mother sent him here. They were excellent years.

But as the years went by, the relationship between them got worse, until Damian left. Too many expectations left unfilled.

His career, for example, was a topic of many disagreements ... because as much as he liked mathematics and sciences, Damian never wanted to follow Thomas Wayne’s footsteps. Nor did he want to be part of his grandfather’s organization.

He wanted to make his own path with his own rules. Turns out, that just like Father.... words aren’t his forte. They started clashing at every turn until one day Damian had enough and left.

Two months later Timothy Drake stepped in, only to die a few years later.

“Damian?”

Then Jason’s face looms in his vision and suddenly he’s not standing in front of Timothy’s grave anymore. He’s got that look of concern on his face. He breaks eye contact, but that doesn’t help in erasing the image of Timothy’s body-

“Are you going to stay?” Jason asked, grabbing the child from the back, preventing another vase’s demise. Grandmother Martha must be thanking Jason for this.

“I know Alfred has been very excited to have us all. Family dinner and all that.”

Damian hums, not knowing how to reject the offer without hurting the other’s feelings. Because he knows rejection will lead to questions. Questions that could lead to an interrogation, and other implications Damian doesn’t have the patience for.

“I will stay for dinner, Todd,” he ends up saying, despite how much he wants to leave this place. Luckily Jason continues speaking while herding the kid away from any possible breakable object.

“Bruce is busy with work, but according to Alf’, he will return in a few more hours.”

That only makes the feeling inside his stomach worse. He can’t remember the last time he has seen his father that wasn’t a public appearance. -

“Hey,” Jason says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stress about it. Okay?”

The child chooses that moment to break out of Todd’s grip and dash for him.

“Hi!” the child exclaims with another widened smile and open arms. Just looking at him is _exhausting_. How the hell can Todd keep up with this one? “My name's Richard Grayson, but all the kids at the circus used to call me Dick!”

Damian raises an eyebrow and glances back at Jason, who simply crosses his arms.

“Well, children can be cruel,” Damian said, evading the hug with ease and totally ignoring the way the kid ends up pouting. He has decided what to do, for the rest of his stay. This child and whatever his name is will not be his problem.

* * *

Turns out that the kid is as stubborn as Todd. The second Todd leaves the room, the kid latches onto him. Every room that he goes, the kid follows. Soon enough, he feels annoyed at his presence.

 _“Play nice Master Damian,”_ Pennyworth had said, just when Damian was about to snap at the child. _Nice_ , he thinks, while ignoring whatever the kid is saying to him as he dutifully follows Damian to the library.

He doesn’t think he can do nice. The kid is way too bright for him, too exhausting to look at. This is a nightmare, Damian thinks when the kid sits next to him. Jon better save him or Damian will lose it.

Then the kid starts asking questions. Damian regrets answering one, because the kid takes that as a cue to get interrogating him. From _“what is your favorite color?”_ to _“who’s your favorite superhero?”_

“I don’t believe in superheroes,” Damian tiredly replies. The book he’d wanted to read lays in his hands, forgotten. It was a good one, he thinks. Jason probably recommended it to him.

He looks back at the hellion of a kid that was thrust upon him, who’s mimicking him. It stays like that for a while, Damian trying his best to reply, until the kid asks that completely drains his mood altogether.

“How about Batman?”

The book falls from his lap with a thud.

“Do you like him?”

Damian opens his mouth, but no words come out. He shrugs, unable to speak past the sudden constriction in his throat. Perhaps ten years ago, Damian would have said Batman was his idol. Perhaps there was once a time when… that mantel would have been his.

It doesn’t matter.

 _The kid probably doesn’t know._ He forces his voice to stay calm, despite the overwhelming feeling ripping at his throat. Even if years have passed, the thought of it still hurts.

“ _Damian, son.” His father asked, approaching him with care. This is the first time Damian has ever seen him look so shocked._

_“What have you done?”_

“I think he’s respectable,” Damian says as his voice breaks, becoming a whisper.

* * *

Damian has no shame in strategically retreating to the Batcave after that. He spends the rest of the evening, working on whatever artifact or prototype is at his disposal, while trying to bury the painful feelings with more work.

It doesn’t work as well as he might have hoped because the cave is covered with photos of father’s newest acquisition. Soon enough it gets on his nerves. There’s even a picture of the kid hanging against the wall and it has only been _six weeks_ since the kid arrived here. Damian sighs while setting the tools aside.

The child must have his father whipped.

Just by looking at the picture, Damian can see the appeal. He has the same black hair as Drake and the blue eyes as Todd. If this one didn’t have the last name Grayson, Damian would have definitely mistaken him as Bruce’s biological child.

Perhaps this is one he wants. Adoption is a voluntary process, right? Meaning there was something Bruce saw in this child. It’s very different from his own case, since Damian was the product of a one-night stand. He was an unexpected surprise.

Even to this day, the details are fuzzy… But Damian knows his mother wouldn’t have sent him if it hadn’t been important but… and…

“Tt,” he says. He’s not jealous. Not one single bit. Damian doesn’t want to deal with him and whatever he might represent. His mood only worsens when Pennyworth appears a few hours later.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Alfred asks, settling down the tray. He shakes his head, but Pennyworth is a man wise beyond his years.

He’s the type of man that can understand what others may be going through with just one look. Damian is not surprised when Alfred takes a seat and places a hand on his.

“You look well, Master Damian,” Alfred says, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with ease. The smell of freshly-baked cookies hits his nose and his mouth waters. He takes a brief peek at the food resting in the tray.

Cinnamon cookies, his favorite.

The one Alfred only bakes whenever Damian feels overwhelmed.

Except he’s _not_.

Alfred crosses his legs, raises a cup and takes a sip of the hot liquid.

“Tell me, how's Blüdhaven?”

“As usual Pennyworth,” Damian replies briskly, settling down the grapple he was fixing some seconds prior. “It is operating well.”

Alfred hums, interested. The conversation falls into silence, after a while. There’s only so much pep talk until they run out of topics.

“Remember the old birdhouse near the greenhouse?” Alfred asks a few moments later, effectively catching Damian’s attention because, how could he not? He built it with Father, the first year he arrived here.

“Master Richard told me there’s a nest.”

 _Oh_.

“I think it’s a Robin. Quite a sight, if I say so myself. In fact, I’m sure Master Richard will be pleased to direct you tomorrow towards -”

“Good for him,” Damian cuts him off, ending the conversation. He has no need to listen to whatever Pennyworth will say about the child. He doesn’t want to deal with the child.

It’s their problem, not his… but Pennyworth doesn’t say anything.

The old man watches him, analyzing his reply. The silence stretches until Damian soon feels uncomfortable. It reminds him of all the times when he was younger and in his naivety, had blurted something unpleasant and Pennyworth would just… stare at him. This is exactly the same.

He doesn’t last long.

“I apologize…,” he says softly, his eyes set on the floor. “I did not expect to meet Richard... That is all.”

“Damian,” Alfred calls him losing all joviality aside. There have been few times when Pennyworth had addressed him like this.

“Look at me, please.”

And he does. Pennyworth looks ... well. He’s got some more lines on his face and gray hair, but overall… he looks _happy_.

He places his hands on Damian’s.

“Richard is not Timothy, and he’s not his replacement.” The words struck him with ease, prodding old wounds that never got to heal. The familiar pain blossoms into a feeling he knows far too well. Guilt. He has to bite the inner part of his cheek, in order to not say something stupid.

Because the words hurt.

“He’s a kid who’s been dying to meet you. A big fan of Nightwing.” Damian shuts his eyes, wanting to erase whatever memories he has of his younger days. His days as a vigilante are over. The only link he has these days is his roommate Jon, who has long gotten past the hope of Damian wearing the mantle ever again.

“He adores you very much.”

“He has no need.”

“Why are you scared to open your heart, my dear child?”

“Because I’m a killer, Pennyworth,” he mutters, his eyes set on the ground. There is no day in which Damian isn’t reminded of the action he committed years ago. The action that prompted his early retirement and made his relationship with his father crumbled.

He makes eye contact with Pennyworth, and says the words.

“That is all I have ever been.”

* * *

The moment he opens his eyes, Damian knows this is a nightmare. It’s the same one that haunts now and then. _Wake up,_ he thinks to himself but to no avail. He tries to get up, but his left leg is covered in rubble.

At the count of three Damian opens his eyes, and he can’t see much. It’s there when he realizes that he can’t breathe. He gapes, both hands going to his neck as he struggles to get whatever ounce of air that can fill his lungs, but he can’t.

What he finds instead is wet sliding from his neck. Damian blinks, forcing his hand to check what it is. It’s blood. Except it’s dark, almost black. His heart skips a beat because this is just like the report he has memorized.

He looks around and there is the familiar tree.

“Stop it,” he whispers but the words aren’t strong enough to wake him up. He grabs the nearest object and thrust it into his arms, hoping that the pain will make him wake up. It doesn’t.

 _Tim_ , he hears in the distance. It sounds frantic. Borderline desperate. Damian shuts his eyes, wishing he could block the sounds.

_It doesn't._

* * *

Suddenly he wakes up, covered with sweat. A nightmare, the more rational part of his brain tells him. Except, his mind is still replaying the events. His heart is still racing and there’s a light throbbing in one part of his head.

Damian looks over at the clock on the nightstand, and to his dismay, it's a quarter to four. The chances of going back to sleep are low. He’d always been a light sleeper. It was one of the first things his mother taught him.

He gets out quietly and ventures until he reaches the living room. He’s not surprised to see Todd reading quietly next to the fireplace, who quietly points at the seat near him. Another conversation then.

Damian stalls momentarily before opting to sit and watches how the flames begin to lick over the wood.

“Bruce’s meeting got rescheduled,” Jason says, flipping another page of his book. “Something about stock value and-”

He waves his hands vaguely, as if with the motion, he could make the words coherent.

“Business,” Todd ends lamely. Then when he catches sight of Damian, he adds. “You look awful.”

“Thanks for the wonderful observation Todd,” Damian says, but there’s no bite to his words. He’s tired. “Truly a detective.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Todd asks sympathetically, his attention going back to the book. Judging by the cover, it’s probably another romance novel. “Nightmares?”

Damian doesn’t bother replying, but Jason takes that as a cue.

“Hey,” He says, handing him out some beer. There’s a glint in his eyes that tells him, Jason probably took it from his Father’s alcohol stash. “Here.”

“Where exactly did father get this child?” Damian asks, accepting the beer. He doesn’t like the taste of alcohol, but tonight he will make an exception. His heart weighs too heavy. His father’s screams are still ringing in his ears. “I thought he was done adopting children.”

“He’s a good kid, isn’t he?” Jason replies, taking a sip of his beer. Alfred is not close, so they can drink some. “He’s sweet.”

“Too sweet to be here,” Damian says under his breath. After all the years he lived here, Damian knows what Gotham offers. It is not pleasant. Drake didn’t have time to turn fifteen before Gotham took him. “Gotham will destroy him.”

“According to Bruce you were also a cute kid,” Jason pipes back. He’s got that distant eye set on grandfather’s clock. Ah, the nostalgia is settling in. “Alfred said you also used to-”

“We’re not the same and you know it,” Damian snaps, trying to not remember those younger days. Richard (or whatever is his name) is not the same.

“I grew up being prepared for the role,” Damian adds. “It was my birthright. That child is definitely not prepared. He’s not even ten years old. I-”

“And look how we both turned out,” Jason pointed out. To that... Damian can’t contradict him. He knows that Flamebird is one of their most respectable superheroes within the league. Jon often tells him, after he goes to the Justice meeting.

“You were a great instructor, you know.”

_Oh hell, no._

_Absolutely not._

“I will not train him,” Damian says instantly. Maybe a little too harshly, but he doesn’t care. This is exactly what he’d been trying to avoid in the first place. Richard Grayson will not be his problem, no matter how much Jason and Alfred press him into it. “He’s too young.”

 _And I’m retired,_ goes unsaid. It’s been years since Damian last wielded a weapon. His time as a vigilante is long gone. Damian stepped down the moment they found the Joker’s decapitated body, outside of Arkham.

Despite what everyone says, Damian doesn’t regret killing him. Sacrificing his mantle was a small pay price to pay if that meant that the Joker wouldn’t get to terrorize anymore.

The only regret he has was not killing him _sooner_.

“Damian,” Jason says, his voice going in that soft way Damian despises. He knows Jason doesn’t blame him for what happened. None of them do. But there isn’t a day in which Damian isn’t haunted about what-if.

Training another person means getting attached to it. The thing is, Damian doesn’t want to get attached. Training Todd had just been a one-time opportunity. An exception, that only happened because he didn’t want another accident to happen.

“Just ... give him a chance? Saying hi won’t kill you,” Jason nudges at him with his elbow. “Plus the kid got potential.”

Damian closes his eyes and counts to ten ... because this is exactly what he had been trying to avoid.

Because chasing potential is exactly what got Timothy _killed._

* * *

As if life couldn’t get any worse, a storm hits Gotham the next day and all flights are cancelled until further notice. That only means that his flight to New York will have to wait, and he will have to spend the next couple of days here.

And that’s how he end up two hours later, in the bat cave, beating Jason in a sparing match. Somehow the child ends up watching them with interest.

“You’ve gotten slower,” Jason says, blocking a punch with his left leg. Damian grunts in response.

He jumps back and huffs, wiping the sweat trickling down his neck. Totally ignoring the slight ache in his lower leg, done by a kick Jason gave him some moments prior; that makes Damian change strategy at least for a minute.

He glances at the clock.

_One minutes left._

“I’m retired Todd,” He replies, aiming towards an opening Todd leaves. Jason evades him with ease.

“Is that a synonym for lazy?” Jason taunts, hitting him right below the plexus. The pain radiates into an ache he’s familiar with. Damian grits his teeth and uses his weight to tackle.

“Retired,” He corrects, pinning him down until Jason wheezes out a faint _“I yield”_.

* * *

“Train me,” is the small reply from the kid, hanging near the entrance of his bedroom. Damian arches an eyebrow.

“I’m busy,” is all he says, before going back to his book. Another one of Jason’s recommendations.

“Jason told me you trained him,” Dick insists. He can give points for the effort, Damian supposes. “I won’t-”

“I won’t train you,” Damian says, immediately.

“I don’t understand why you hate me,” Dick blurts out. “But, please. Please give me a chance.”

He doesn’t. The only thing Damian wants to do is leave… but there is something in the kid’s gaze that makes him stop altogether. It’s the look, he realizes two seconds later. He’s got that same look that Timothy once gave him the first time they met.

A look of adoration and, to be more precise. One that he doesn’t deserve, not after he failed Timothy so hard.

Suddenly, Pennyworth’s words are replaying in his mind.

_Richard is not Timothy, and he’s not his replacement._

He closes his eyes.

_Why are you scared to open your heart, my dear child?_

He opens them and there is Richard, looking at him. Too much innocence. A pang of sadness hits him, because it reminds him of the brother he could have had. The brother he lost because Damian himself had a lot more to grow.

He swallows the hard lump in his throat, refusing to be a victim of his emotions.

“Okay,” Damian says softly. “I will.”

_“Really?!”_

“But,” He locks eyes with him. He can't believe he's saying this. “Do not disappoint me.”


	2. Author note

I know you guys hate this when author do this, trust me, I do so too.

It saddens me to say this but there's a high chance I won't ever upload a second chapter as it was originally planned. Continuing this story pains my soul and my heart due to personal reasons.

I have seriously pondered in deleting this but after much thinking I've decided to leave it complete for now because you guys liked it. Please download this fic just in case. You're welcome to subcribe in case I ever decide to keep writing it and who knows, maybe in some years I will finish it. From the bottom of my heart I apologize for this, I hate discontinuing stories but it's for my mental health and I have to focus on myself. I hope you can understand ❤️ 

Sincerely yours,

Niullum ❤️ 


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